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total.The gig last night was the last one on this stretch. We don’t play again for another two months. We thought we were going to get to open for Evanescence, but Adam wasn’t able to nail it down.” More disappointment darkened her eyes, but she covered it quickly. “But that’s cool. It gives us time to work on new stuff for the next album.” She tapped the guitar beside her.
    I sat back down. “What about other members of the band?” I asked. “Has there been any friction?”
    “No way,” she said firmly and without hesitation. “I mean, you certainly can’t worry about Michael. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. And Trey’s an absolute sweetie.” An almost-shy smile filled her face. “He’s my boyfriend. And I know that normally would mean he’d be at the top of the list of suspects, but I swear, he’s the last person I’d ever need to worry about. He’s beyond harmless. I’ve never seen anyone so laid back. He doesn’t get upset about anything.”
    I carefully masked my dubious expression. I’d heard that before.
    “Trey’s a good kid,” Ben Moran said firmly. “Though I guess I shouldn’t call him a ‘kid,’ ” he added wryly. “He recently graduated from LSU with a degree in finance.”
    I glanced down at my notebook. “What about Roger?” I asked Lida. “He’s the drummer, right?”
    “Uh-huh, and he also does all of our equipment setup when we have a gig.” Then she shrugged. “But Roger would never get that bent out of shape over anything to do with the band.”
    I cocked my head. “Why do you say that?”
    Ben made an irritated sound. “Because he has his fingers in so many pies that he can’t focus on any of them.”
    Lida grimaced, but then she gave a reluctant nod. “Yeah. I hate to slam Roger, but that about covers him. He’s a good drummer, and he likes being with the band, but we all know that eventually we’ll need to find a new drummer. It’s a hobby for him. And everyone’s cool with that.”
    I wondered how cool “everyone” really was. “How’s Michael handling all of this?”
    “He’s all right,” she said with a smile, though there was a edge of worry to it. “He’ll lose himself in his music for a while, which always calms him down.”
    Ben cleared his throat softly. “Michael has a difficult time processing emotional situations. He’s come a long way since the accident, but there are times when he’s very fragile.”
    “I’m sorry. What accident?” I asked, knowing that it was probably an insensitive question.
    Lida took a steadying breath. “When Michael was twelve, he and I were out in the garage, helping our dad with one of his woodworking projects. It was a windy day . . . and the roof collapsed.” Grief filled her eyes and she looked away. “Dad was killed instantly. I had a broken leg and Michael was pretty badly hurt with a head injury.” She let out a shuddering breath. “He survived, but he suffered some brain damage as a result.”
    “I’m so sorry,” I said quietly.
    She tugged at her hair and looked back at us. “It’s all right. It was eight years ago—long enough that it’s not so hard to talk about.” She forced a small smile, but I’d seen the grief in her eyes.
    She would have been eleven when she lost her father. The same age I’d been when mine was killed.
    “But we’re lucky,” Lida continued. “Uncle Ben has taken really good care of us and made sure that Michael got the best care possible.”
    “I take care of my family,” he said, giving her a warm smile. Then he looked up and past us. I glanced back to see Michael standing in the entrance to the upstairs hallway, gaze flicking rapidly over us and then to his sister as if begging for an explanation.
    She rose and gestured to him. “C’mere, Michael,” she said with an encouraging smile. “The cops who saved me yesterday came by to say hi.”
    His face cleared and he smiled broadly. “Hi!” he said with a wave. “I was playing